


Chrysalis

by Saniika



Series: Poultice [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Characters will be added as I go - Freeform, F/M, Fictional Disease, Friends to Lovers, Hanahaki AU, Happy Ending, Rating May Change, Unrequired Love, vomiting flowers and blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 19:42:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10883625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saniika/pseuds/Saniika
Summary: Hanahaki AU: Georgi never vomited flowers, ever. Not even when Anya dumped him. He realizes now, that he has not been in love yet. Not truly. Up till this moment he was in love with the idea of love. Being not good at something, made him push through with strong resolve. Because if you try hard enough, you will succeed, right? Yet as he went on, he came of too strong, too dramatic and over the top. Falling to the trap of overcompensation. Pretty lie is still a lie.Now he is finally in love, for the first time in his life. A blessing and a curse at the same time.





	Chrysalis

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Hanahaki AU. Hanahaki means it is a fictional disease, the victim regurgitates and coughs up flowers (petals, whole flowers and stems as it progresses) when they suffer from unrequited love. The illness can only be cured through surgical removal, however any existing romantic feelings are also removed with the infection.
> 
> This has no beta.

A huge butterfly is spreading its wings over her back, beads and rhinestones trickling and spilling on the cream colored skin, complementing the line of her spine. The fabric trails after her in air like turquoise cloud. Yakov discussed the outfit with the best designer, not sparing on expenses. The coach knew exactly what he was doing, the whole performance started its story before she even set her skate on the ice. The moment she unzips her jacket studded with logos of sponsors, a lightly damp and shriveled creature is born. To Georgi it looks each time like watching a pupa emerge from the crust of a hard chrysalis. Mila is always sweaty but deadly calm. Her muscles do not rest but are pumped. Opposed to the freshly born insect she doesn’t hover and wait for her wings to dry. There is no time for that. Not on Yakov’s watch, who makes sure their days are managed and running like clockwork, scrutinized down to a minute.

The moment the zipper releases the last tooth, Yakov’s fingers strip her frame for the cool air to sweep over her flushed skin. It quickly travels to Georgi’s hands serving as a convenient coat hanger. It’s really not the program itself that is the main course feeding Mila’s career. Yakov knows how to satisfy the hungry eyes of the minor individuals in audience throughout the press and sponsors. Mila is a good skater, but not good enough yet to reach the first place. Visuals always play a big importance in her representation. Where she lacks in experience and skill, her acting abilities and pretty face substitute in the gaps. It’s not like Yakov is taking shortcuts, he makes sure all of his skaters overcome their boundaries and cross through their potential. He will bring her to the top, Georgi knows that all too well. It’s just that Mila is using all of her arsenal to be well prepared for the battle front.

Georgi makes sure to attend the Ladies programs and support Mila. Yakov is satisfied with it, because Georgi prepares ahead for the later Men performances. Yuri is present as well, but hidden somewhere on the premises trying to fight of boredom and frustration. He cannot say no to Yakov, but it doesn’t mean he enjoys it. Victor is another story, ethereal being minding its own business. Georgi does understand it’s nothing personal against Mila, it’s just how Victor is. One day forgetting something important and the other able to come up with the most heart wrenching choreography within half an hour.

When Mila performs its always Yakov and Georgi watching her back and listening to the first sharp scrape of her skate on the frozen water as she steps out. Georgi likes to watch the shift in her demeanor. In casual setting she is relaxed, playful and very friendly. On competition grounds she appears a lot older and is different than usual. She never ceases to be beautiful, no matter if she is lifting Yuri above her head like a pro wrestler or dressed in banquet attire. There is no question about that, its a constant, something similar to Victor's natural charming ability. It’s the shift in her attitude, being sleek and keen at the same time that makes the difference. He muses about it, listening to the commentator's voice and her body positions itself after a languid slow lap of for the audience in the starting pose, hands poising glowed fingers in carefully crafted gesture. They barely touch her rosy cheeks and her fingertips are dipping lightly into the end of her shaped stylish red helmet. The locks hug her cheekbones in a compelling manner, Georgi thinks on how he would choose a slightly different shade or eye-shadow and maybe add some pearlescent shimmer to her cheeks to add on the theatrical value. Suddenly her eyes cast down, flutter with the first cords of the piano. And then, audience with Georgi included is pulled into the dream, where Mila is a fairy and personification of elusive fragrance.

Georgi likes to observe her in a competition, he haven’t seen any woman perform quite like that before. Not even Anya. Naturally he should be subjectively inclined to be biased, but he is not. Yakov's tutelage brings the physical among with the mental drill in one package. You do advance in your skills, gaining confidence, pride and eye for the craft as well. From a simple puppet and tool, you are molded into artisan, unifying body and mind to create masterwork. Ice is a ground which strips his skaters of hypocrisy and makes them dedicated to the craft with their hearts and soul. So Georgi can look at Mila and even if its not the voluminous longer hair of Anya floating in the air, he can without hesitation nod in agreement as she rushes by in effortless step sequence. He remembers Anya argued with him about this a few times, before when it seemed that she felt strongly enough for him to throw jealous tantrums. She accused him of not being supportive enough and being candid for his own good. A dull sensation shivers in his chest and his brows furrow in confusion. How come he thinks of his ex and doesn’t feel remorse? The trained reaction from familiar strain of thoughts makes him anticipate the reflexive tightness in his lungs and he almost expects stinging tears, but none appear. Yet, the dull pain is strangely unfamiliar and more intense. The more he watches Mila slide under the lights, the unknown sensations are rising to the top, reaching an undefined brim. He senses tension settling in his jaw, teeth starting to grind. Maybe he is tired? His fingers stroke the jacket in his hands and in the corner of his mind he notices, they are clawing at the fabric forcefully, trapped in a desperate spasm. He relaxes them consciously and is puzzled. He looks ahead, caught of guard and stresses he missed the crescendo of her performance. He thinks on how hard she practiced the coming jump. It took her a month to get it smooth enough transitioning into Ina Bauer formation. Yakov was close to rearranging the sequences, and stop her suffering. Tt was painful display of Mila's struggle through desperation. Even Yuri showed concern for her in visible way, that you could tell he felt for her with sympathy. 

Georgi follows her limbs with his eyes, mind counting the rhythm memorized from the training sessions. It was impossible to ignore during the training sessions. Several skaters shared the ice at their home rink, while he coached them in scheduled batches and alternating between individual sessions, while others worked on warm up or compulsory elements. What unified them all was Yakov applying almost a military method, shouting the beat with no music playing. He was like a metronome soaking the ticking sound into your bloodstream, which you felt running through you even asleep. The first thing you learned while training under him, was abandoning any hesitation or shame from onlookers. His voice rattled into the inside of your very core and you had no choice but to let it follow the counts and push through your limits. Anyone present at the rink fell under this spell unconsciously, the tempo universal and applicable to each individual's program. It was much like learning a new way of breathing. That is why Georgi knows her performance by heart, without the need to physically see. But he is here this afternoon just to do that, so he stares ahead transfixed. It is different this time. Georgi feels something he did not experience before and does not feel what he was expecting. Anya is dissolving into a forgotten memory, he has hard time remembering her eyes. Yet a lingering pressure leans onto his breath. It’s difficult and harder to inhale, as if there is not enough space for the air inside his lungs.

Mila is different, almost a poet reciting a sweet poem, her theme being True Love. She does look like she is in love, overwhelmingly so. Georgi earned for that kind of love his whole life, hoped to have it with many girls, last one being Anya. Mila is not in love, Georgi knows that, because he remembers the conversation from the resting area one afternoon after particularly tiresome workout. They were relaxed and pleasantly tired, exhaustion pulling them into lulled kind drowsiness. She was more receptive than usual and offered a less guarded feedback.

She laughed about his zeal, when he brought out the fashion sketches for his next costume and explained to her that Carabosse was the main inspiration for the design. Mila is blunt, but tries to be polite looking over the dark and vivid color combinations. The rhinestones and mesh looks ridiculous to her. She bites her lips listening to his description of the makeup he'd like to wear with it. He can tell, watching her face looking a little rigid and close to bursting out in laughter. Georgi is not ignorant, he knows he is looked upon as too dramatic by other people’s standards. Over the top. He knows. Mila is not cruel, she just doesn’t understand, just like others don’t. When Georgi falls into his spleen on the ice, even Yakov regards him in a strained manner sometimes with expression of an exhausted father. If Georgi wouldn’t be so invested in his performance he would wonder about Yakov being brought to the state of abashment. The fact alone that his trainer is hesitating to voice out criticism, which he never has problems with other skaters, is considerably startling. Yakov is holding back a lot and Georgi doesn't speak about it with him, both following an odd unspoken agreement. His reviewers noted in few articles that he listens too well to Yakov, which is both a strength and weakness. Unfortunately he doesn't read many of them, Yakov doesn't encourage him to do so either and of course, there is Victor who grabs all the attention of the press and experts, no matter if he is off or on ice. So once again, Georgi is caught in this little dance of ignorance and magic kingdom of his own interpretation, oblivious of what the bigger picture is.

No one can really comprehend. Georgi has no other choice but to fuel his feeling inside, they are ripping out, scratching his insides on the way out and throwing him into a fitful tangled mess of coiled energy. He needs to twist and writhe, to showcase the torment and release the emotions. They are waking him up in the night, even more so after Anya is gone, cutting through the silence. Somehow Georgi wakes up more often, he could have sworn, there was loud music playing in his apartment startling him from the sleep. He finds himself frequently restless and in need to shout over the deafening silence, desperate to mute the noise in his head and fill it with something else. He is not wallowing in despair because he is masochistic, he does not seek out the self-pity with indulgence. Quite contrary. He throws himself into his emotions, making a spectacle of himself under so many eyes on the ice, because he wants everyone to see he is owning them and not letting them win over and render him powerless. What is a person if not feeling to the fullest, getting of of the experience? For Georgi there are no shortcuts either, just like for Mila. He pursues everything with full focus and maximum deployment. Ripping through the force of the emotions, the twister sweeping the chipped ice of the scratched surface of the rink, melting under unmerciful glaring lights of cameras. It’s all planned and has a purpose. It’s owning up to his inner turmoil and cleansing himself. He is aware of the effect he has on the audience, he does notice the strange looks once he steps down of the ice, as if people are expecting him to wail like a weeping willow and ask for smelling salts. But once he's standing on his skates with guards safely put in place and yakov guides him to the Kiss and Cry, he is the composed Georgi again.

No, it is all reserved for the ice, where it all belongs to. Like raw meet chilled to the bone, preserving each painful nuances of his mad rush after love. It would not survive of the ice and he would be destroyed. Yes. Love is ever-present in Georgi’s life. His mother brought him up alone after his father passed away at a young age. He does not remember him, he was too small to even recall his face. His mother ended up alone shortly after marriage, a beautiful, graceful and strong woman who carried the whole responsibility of his care on her small shoulders. She had such poise, gentle shell, but was independent on her own, with no help of others. She made sure to give him all her love and care, never gotten any partner again claiming that she decided for his father alone and relished in reliving vivid memories of their love. Evenings carried many occasions, when she told him stories about his father and made it sounds more captivating than any fairy-tale. No magic could make it more interesting, no monsters or dragons were needed to make the stories sound more compelling. Love was the ultimate prize and reward and essential part of his mothers life, carrying his father's legacy. Love itself was the fairy-tale, he never witnessed in the relationships around himself growing up. She have imprinted him with high expectations on relationships, filled him with earning he did not know how to satisfy as a small child, barely understanding it all. But she directed him to ballet and theater, making him watch live performances of Nutcracker every December, before he could barely speak properly. He learned to take in beauty and wish to have romantic love, without knowing how to call it. It was exactly what he imagined listening to her stories, watching the Sugarplum fairy and her Nutcracker, the Flower waltz. But the Pas de trois also called the Dance of the reed pipes captivated him the most. The young Shepherdesses and their strong lithe bodies trembling in the air, made his eyes shine like golden icons in the church and he spoke of nothing else the whole evening when they returned home. So it was possible for young children to show this kind of grace and play out the fantasies! Georgi was exhilarated that it wasn't a stage reserved just for adults and would not need to wait until he was grown up to be part of that. The next week thanks to the strong encouragement and arrangements of his mother, who was also a ballerina, he is enrolled for ballet classes. His journey in performing arts sets of the blazing trail leading to the present on the ice. Over the years ballet was not enough anymore and Georgi sought out bigger stage, dancing on the blades, but never forgot about the artistry of the theater. Love is still a strong focal point in his life and the drive to battle with strong feelings pulses in his veins.

Georgi wants to be over the top, if that is what other people mean when they say its too much looking at him. He can not debate how they label what he is performing on the ice. It matters to him only that he expresses what wells in his gut. He has to loose himself and let the force flow freely. Georgi feels insatiable thirst, grabbing after the undefined something, which his mother spoke about with nostalgic shine in her eyes. He earned to attain that some day for so long, hoping every new girl would be the one. The prized princess in golden raiment. Anya was his new hopeful adept for this position, only to cast him away and leave him in disbelief. He worked so hard to achieve it with her. It. Yes, the love with the big L, the carriage after the ball riding into the horizon towards the setting sun.

The flashes of the cameras force themselves in as lighting over Mila’s dress, making her sparkle like a wave of magical glitter and Georgi’s eyes widen as he catches the sight of her face. Its soft, dreamy and earning. From afar you cant see much, but the big screen broadcasting the picture of her zoomed on facade is suddenly rattling his bones and is breaking his spine. He can only helplessly watch, the glowing blush on her cheeks, the flickering light in her hazed eyes. The same look he had seen in his mother's eyes.

Georgi does not understand. Mila had a boyfriend now and then, but it was never something serious for her. Even that one time, when she discovered her lover was cheating on her and she beat him up in retaliation, she was not sad. Not really in love. Always this semi shallow relationship at her ankles quietly scattering after her, never skipping ahead of her walk. The boys vomit flowers for her, all of them go for a surgery at some inevitable point. Mila is not in love.  
Yet Georgi unmistakably sees the true thing right in front of his eyes, there on the ice, while everyone is watching. Its the closest he can materialize the feeling he fathomed about since he was a small boy. He is a child again, mesmerized and wanting.  
His fingers loose the grip of the jacket, he doesn't feel it sliding down. He doesn't see the flower bouquets being thrown on the ice, as Mila stands with arms raised gasping for air. Her performance is finished. He doesn't hear the standing ovations, the raving voices of the commentators, nor Yakov’s startled gasp as he pushed the piece of clothing onto him.

Georgi runs further away from the ice as quickly as his feet can carry him, the emotions crawling out with compelling intensity he never felt before. Anya, Anya, why didn't she make him vomit flowers? Why did the girls from his past start to vomit flowers in the middle of their relationship? He never understood watching others fall for a loved one, suffering in pain and becoming a victim to the unrequited love and the Hanahaki disease. He has seen, but never felt all that, never could comprehend. What is this strong emotion sprawling in his belly, climbing under his ribs and reaching his collarbones? He flies through the corridors like a madman and crashes into the men’s bathroom. Sudden force piercing though him like a brash shout from a cave smashes his body onto the sink. The door bangs shut behind him and he can't make it to the stall, just barely braces himself on the cold polished chrome of the basin. A burn is crackling in his chest, his throat is aflame and he realizes in panic he is choking, hands shooting up to his neck. Georgi cannot inhale anymore and something alien is floundering the soft tissue of his esophagus. Tears well up in the corners of his eyes from the force as he finally coughs. It take two tries or maybe three and something comes out. He swallows heavily, gulping down the lingering pressure inside and stares at his glowed hand in utter disbelief.

There on his palm a pair of small flowers quiver covered in saliva and from the slight tremor of his body. Their color is a beautiful shade of crimson similar to Mila’s auburn hair and their shape is a familiar one. Small lips, which if you pressed they would resemble growling mouth of a dragon. They grew in his mother’s garden and he watered them regularly. He remembers his mother made special edible oil from it and even explained to him once it was used for poultice. He asked her then, what it is and she simply said it heals people’s wounds. Soothing burning pain and numbs down the fire.

Snapdragons. 

Georgi, at the age of twenty-eight, has his breath taken away. He finds what he was chasing after his whole life. And he contracts Hanahaki disease. For the first time in his life he is in love.

Shock is a weak word and cannot possibly describe the state he's finding himself in. When the realization hits him, he casts a look onto his own reflection in the mirror in front of him. Its a matter of seconds, when he comes to a conclusion. He can be a star in both comedy and tragedy. Of course it makes sense that finding the true love comes with a high price. He is not in a position to reject this great gift. No, he won't even try to get rid of the flowers, he thinks as he lets his eyes slide gently over the small blossoms. He kisses them almost with worship, careful not to crush them. They are after all the proof he is capable of these strong feelings he ached to experience. No matter that others see it as something unfortunate, a curse. He'll carry the spell valiantly upon his shoulders and with same resolution like he pursued it. Just this time, he wont need to force himself and wallow in doubt of what is to come. He doesn't need to be afraid anymore, because the love has arrived, was so close to him and appeared like a snowdrop, a messenger of hope announcing the arrival of spring and sending the dreary winter melting away.

No matter that Mila doesn't love him. It is enough for Georgi that he has this and that it appears that Mila does love as well, she is capable of feeling it as well. It doesn't have to be love for a person. It is enough she loves the ice. He does understand, he can be emphatic. Because for him the ice is the stage, where he laid down his hopes and earning for love. And if it means he can share the stage with her, using the same ice during competitions, so be it. He will take it, for what it is worth.

Georgi feels lighter, huge weight is off his shoulders and the sting of constant anxiety tied to fear and guilt is gone. A soft smile is gracing his lips and then its wider by the seconds. He kisses the flowers again several times with fervor without abandon. Ever so thankful. What does it matter now, that they will be crushed. There will be plenty more flowers blooming from inside his chest. Oh, this is not flimsy vague affection anymore. It is lasting, the real deal and it will determine everything he does now. It makes things a lot easier, giving clear options, gains, lining down complications and sacrifices. He will need to do more reading and research upon the disease, but it will be easy to get the needed information, he is not afraid. He wont tell anyone, he decides quickly. Later on he'll have to confide in Yakov, because he wont stop skating. He would not even dream of ending his career now. Yakov will understand and if not, Georgi will make him. The flowers will no go and he won't abandon the ice either, at least not until he absolutely has to. As this has been laid out for him already, he will take the reins. If he cannot stop the carriage heading towards the abyss, he will steers the route and affect the way he will meet his end. Georgi decides he will go out in his prime and deliver the best performances till the last breath will allow him to do so. Maybe he‘ll even make history? Its a chance and such a beautiful one and it makes him feel so giddy, he laughs and presses his palms on his eyes, rubbing his tears away. It is a good thing.

Mila said she does not understand people, who fall in love so easily.  
„Have they no fear? What happens if they are not loved back? How can they want to risk that? It's so terribly irresponsible and selfish. Because you either wither away or you loose all feelings for the other person altogether.“  
He heard her conversation with Yuri in the dining hall, when she thought he was not there. At that time he wasn't sure what would he say to her face to face. At some level he did understand where she was coming from and at the same time, he could hardly even imagine how it would be like. He was so afraid of living a hypocritical life, always worried if he is capable of love, questioning if there was something wrong with him. He cherished love so much, yet wasn't graced with its true nature. Last year was eyeopening on many fronts. When Victor abandoned skating, leaving his country and everything he knew for the sake of Yuuri and left for Japan, Georgi thought at first proudly he is the best skater of Russia now. However deep in the silent and roaring nights in the waking moments, the tiny listless voice asked relentlessly. What if. What if there was this possibility, that he was in love with just the idea of love.

The snapdragons were proof that it was all irrelevant now. This is what he wanted, he couldn't even plan better for it. This will make him a better skater and most importantly a better man worthy of this great gift. He only wishes his mother was there so he could tell her. She must watch over him from heaven, he is sure. He wipes away the tear that trickles down his cheek, chuckles at the lingering disbelief and throws the flowers into the nearby trash bin. He washed out his mouth and wipes his lips off and straightens his posture in front of the mirror. His chin is raised high, his shoulders set back, he nods briskly and extends his arm in graceful move, as if entering a stage and bowing to the audience.

He has a performance to get ready for. With this resolution he walks back to the rink and sees Mila and Yakov walking away from the ice. Her serious attitude is gone, she jolts when she notices his approaching presence with flushed cheeks from the performance and enthusiasm. Yakov is frowning, but doesn't say anything. He doesn't notice anyway, because Georgi has eyes just for Mila. He is taking her in as she speaks, as if he is seeing her for the first time.

Her forehead is beading with sweat and her makeup is wearing of, there are small wrinkles forming under her eyes from laughter. How come he didn't notice before? Her deep blue eyes are focused on him with attention he did not see before. Perhaps its already visible he has undergone the change? He worries slightly and then realizes she is speaking to him.

„Georgi, where have you gone so suddenly? Did you even see the end of my skate?“ Her tone is half accusing and half playful. With Mila its always balancing on a frivolous edge, you never know where you are at and yet it feels so open and inviting to approach her. You tend to forget the danger of the disappointment and fall trap easily into her heartwarming nature. Its dangerous, yes. But only if you have expectations. He stares back with warm hooded gaze. He knows she doesn't understand his behaviour, so he speaks kindly.

„Sorry about that, I needed to jump away real quick. But i have seen everything up till the ovations. A splendid performance, you have outdone yourself. The best one I have seen so far.“

And she smiles gingerly and again her eyes shine, guiding him like a moth to a lamp and he cant resist, doesn't even try. 

„And I almost thought you found me boring! No one can match your dramatic level after all, haha! Thanks!“

He smiles back and offers to take the bouquets in her hands away, so she can go change. Yakov is hurrying them ahead, moving in front already talking to his phone and yelling something at Yuri and asking about Victor’s whereabouts. Georgi lingers closer then he needs to be and hopes Mila wont mind he is supporting her elbow with one hand as she waddles in her guarded skates on the lino mat moving to the locker room. He cant help himself, but want to steal some of her touch and be as close as possible. Just to let his body realize, she is indeed real and not just some metaphor in his imagination. She relaxes in his grip and lets her weight lean on him with each step in a light bump. She is talking animatedly and calling something after Yakov loudly making sure that Yuri hears her through the phone on the other end. Little tease who likes to irritate the one one for fun as always.

She keeps talking with enthusiasm and bickers with Yakov, who is scolding her, now showing the phone away from his ear and shouting at it back. Yurio is probably having trouble keeping his temper inside, all too easy target Mila triggered pushing the right buttons. Sarah is approaching them now and throws herself on her, almost sending them to the ground. He helps them back up before they tumble on the floor and retreats his hands as the two women rock in each others embrace teary eyed and beaming with joy. 

„Mila! That was fantastic, I am so happy I skated before you! I wouldn't be able to stay confident after such a performance! You were amazing!!!“

„Aaah, thanks! I worked hard for this, haha! Lets go freshen up, yes?“

She turns to Georgi and hesitates a little.

„Georgi, can you take care of the flowers? Bring them to Ivan?“ Her glowed hand is resting on his forearm with gentle weight and question in her wide eyes, her fringe sticking to her forehead.

He answers quickly with calmer voice than he imagines coming out from his mouth.

„Yes, of course. Gladly! Please go take care of yourself. Don't let me detain you. I'll drop them on my way to the prep room. I‘ll be getting ready for later anyway.“

Mila smiles and he hears her guarded skate clack with a dull sound from underneath their feet. He doesn't take it all in soon enough, she is rising on her blades, toe-picks area digging into the padding and a quick peck is pressed into his cheek with firm wet press. The rhinestones of her glove pat his other cheek and she's pulling away.

„Thanks, Georgi! You're the best! I'll come later and watch yours, I promise!“ Her voice sounds jolly but earnest.

He doesn't linger anymore and quickly walks away calling over his shoulder.  
„Yeah, I‘ll be counting on it!“

He doesn't look back and feels the plastic foil of the bouquets wrapping breaking its shape in his fists. If he turned back, he would notice her slight hesitation and startled expression, before she gathers composure and walks the other way with Sarah hooked into her elbow like a death weight.

Georgi cannot falter now. Not when he decided to do this properly. He has only so little time left to fully show the world and Mila the best he has in store. The great gift he received, the way it changed him. Everyone will see and understand in time.

**Author's Note:**

> from wiki: A poultice, also called a cataplasm, is a soft moist mass, often heated and medicated, that is spread on cloth over the skin to treat an aching, inflamed or painful part of the body. It can be used on wounds such as cuts.
> 
> The performance which enthralled Georgi for the ballet as a child was the Act III Marzipan also dubbed as Dance of the Reed-Flutes from The Nutcracker. I particularly enjoy this performance with the young talented dancers: https://youtu.be/xtLoaMfinbU?t=1h9m58s
> 
> Georgi's voice actor is singing the ending song of Yuri on Ice - You only live once. There are slight references from the text in this fic (I have discovered this fact as I neared the end of the chapter).
> 
> To get updates for the story please subscribe to the Poultice series.


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